The Flour Girl
by roisaber
Summary: Belle's graduate studies in agronomy combined with a not-so-shortcut lead her into a mysterious castle high in the mountains. Jean-Luc Picard faces off against Indiana Jones in a local game of chance and skill to establish control over the mountain passes. How does it all fit together?


Belle looked from the castle, to the sky, and back to the castle again with a growing sense of unease. All the fairy stories warned young women about what would happen to them if they stepped foot into a spooky and seemingly uninhabited castle. She might be accosted by ghosts, Good Folk, or even demons, but she'd certainly be accosted by _something_. On the other hand, the threat posed by the castle was currently only speculative. The threat posed by the darkening sky was altogether certain. It was rare to get a summer thunderstorm this high in the mountains, and with a broken axle Belle had no hope of making it back to her village before the sky erupted and ruined her unprotected cargo. She decided to risk the unknown unknown rather than the known known.

She led Philippe towards the great stone bridge that connected the castle with the road, and he balked when he saw the prodigious drop to the valley floor below.

"Shh, there's nothing to be afraid of, Philippe," Belle soothed, hoping it was true for her sake as well as his. "Let's get going; it's safe."

He chuffed but allowed her to lead him by the reins onto the cobblestone surface of the bridge. The bridge seemed sturdy enough so the pair began to walk. Belle rued the silly decision to attempt a shortcut over an abandoned road; everybody knew that it was shortcuts that got you into trouble, but she'd taken the risk anyway because she was so excited about her cargo. She was an agronomist, studying under the famous professor Indiana Jones, and her particular specialty was grains and flour. Most people might find flour boring but for Belle it was an endless source of fascination. There were so many different kinds of grains, from millet to wheat to rye, and all of human history itself could be traced back through the development of agriculture. Over the mountain, in the city of Cappadocia, Belle had acquired a new kind of wheat imported from Africa that would represent a tremendous coup against her colleague and presumptive rival Gaston.

But that was all contingent on getting the cart under some kind of shelter before the deluge began. She didn't mean to rush Philippe, but the scared horse was putting her entire cargo at risk. She tugged gently on his reins, easing him forward across the bridge and into the looming shadow of the castle. A distant rumble of thunder rolled over the hills, and that was enough to convince Philippe that whatever lie across the bridge was better than staying on top of it during a thunderstorm. He let Belle lead him forward, dragging the stricken cart. Belle cooed at him reassuringly.

The castle's portcullis was open and yawned above them like some kind of hungry gargoyle. Belle led Philippe inside the curtain wall, and with relief she spied an empty stable that would protect both the horse and the cart from the coming storm. Unfortunately, there was no hay, but she gave him an apple from her personal stash as a reward for crossing the bridge. He chewed on it greedily.

"Now stay here, Philippe," Belle instructed. "I'm going to see if there's anyone home."

Philippe neighed, and the first raindrops pattered against the thatch roof of the stable. Belle scratched his chin and took a deep breath before knocking on the colossal wooden door into the castle.

For a long minute, nothing happened. Belle was about to give up and spend the night in the stables with Philippe when the door suddenly creaked inward. Belle peered into the cavernous darkness and hesitated, but then she heard a sheet of heavy rain begin pounding against the cobblestone bridge. It was headed her way. She hurried inside and paused while her eyes adjusted to the darkness.

"Hello?" she asked. "Is anyone here?"

At first, no one answered. But Belle could hear heavy, cavernous breathing coming from one side of the room, and as her eyes adjusted she could make out a hulking shape. She almost turned and fled, rain be damned, but something about the creature seemed more sad than threatening.

"What are you doing in my castle?" a deep, masculine voice slowly articulated.

It sounded like he hadn't spoken in a long time.

"I'm so sorry, sir," Belle replied. "My name is Belle, and I was almost caught out by the thunderstorm. I was hoping you would be kind enough to put me up for the night so that my cargo isn't spoiled. I can pay, of course."

"I don't need your gold."

The man-creature suddenly strode out of the shadows, and Belle got her first good look at him. He a hulking monster of a thing, seven feet tall if he was an inch, and he had a broad, beastly chest to match. Belle gasped; the creature was covered in hair, and even his face resembled the face of a dog more than that of a man. He was wearing a bespoke military-style uniform, adding an almost comic element to his appearance. He looked at her with cold and unforgiving eyes, but something about his stance struck her as being strange. It looked like he was _trying_ to intimidate her, and why should a creature such as the Beast need to try? She straightened her own shoulders and looked him in the eyes. The Beast smirked.

"I will allow you to stay here for the night," the Beast said. "But you must give me something in return."

Belle paused and took a careful breath before speaking. "What is it you ask of me?"

"I ask only that you eat supper with me, at my table. Can you dare to look upon this disfigured form for an entire meal?"

"I will!" Belle announced, surprising herself with her own vehemence.

The Beast closed in on her until he was only a few feet away. He looked down on her with contempt and irritation, but Belle stood her ground and continued to stare him right in the eye.

"Very well," the Beast finally said. "I will give you a room for one night."

"What… what should I call you?"

The Beast snorted. "Call me as I am. Call me Beast."

"Very well… Beast." Belle said.

"I presume you want to clean up before dinner. I will lead you to your chamber for the night. Pray, follow me."

And without another glance Beast turned and started walking down the marble tiled hallway, his claws clacking on the floor. Belle found herself fascinated by him as she struggled to keep up. What strange circumstance had turned him into a monster? They passed a kitchen and Belle gasped when she saw a broom sweeping the floor seemingly of its own accord. For a moment, she started to suspect that the flour was contaminated by ergot and that she was hallucinating, but she was too much a professional to make a mistake like that.

"Wha- how?" she squeaked.

"As I was changed, so my servants were changed with me," Beast explained. "That is what is become of my once-great household."

Belle desperately wanted to ask what had happened, but she was wise enough to hold her tongue. Beast would explain in his own due time. They passed another room, this one surrounded by heavy curtains. In between the spaces left by the fabric, Belle could see bookshelves towering two stories to the ceiling. A series of out of place tchotchkes, like a silver candlestick and a small clock, glared back at her from a shelf guarding the library. She almost felt like they were glaring at her, and, with a sudden start, she felt herself flung physically backwards, away from the door to the library. Beast materialized beside her.

"I apologize," he said. "My servants are very protective of the books. I shall have a word with them on your behalf; perhaps if you ever return, they'll be more accepting of your curiosity. For now I ask that you not disturb them."

"It was such a beautiful library…" Belle breathed. "I've never seen so many books in all my life."

"It's an old family collection. I suppose it's a pity there's no one but me to read them."

Belle followed Beast up a staircase and then to the first door on the left hallway. He fiddled with the lock, and then handed her a tarnished silver key.

"Please refresh yourself and make use of anything you find in this room," Beast explained, handing her the key. "Its previous owner no longer has any use for it."

Belle mouthed the sinister words back to herself, but Beast turned and walked away without elaborating. She shut the heavy wooden door and then locked it, knowing the lock would do nothing to protect her from the hulking man-beast should he wish to do her harm. She looked around and took in the gorgeous bedchamber. The room itself was more beautiful than the most expensive inn she'd ever stayed in. The faded red carpet was spotlessly clean and bore her weight with a springy sensation. The walls were done in mahogany wood, and kerosene lamps waited for her expectantly. The last sunlight pushing its way through the storm was fading, so Belle lit the lamps and luxuriated in their flickering light. The bed was huge and had an upholstered canopy, and two red satin pillows waited for her touch.

One of the room's three doors led out into the hallway, and the second let into a small walk-in closet. Belle gasped when she saw the vast array of dresses and coats hanging from the shelves, and she reached out and touched a beautiful yellow dress that illuminated the dim closet like the sun.

"Well, he _did_ say I could make use of anything I found…" she whispered to herself, not daring to imagine how she'd look if she put it on.

Of course, she couldn't don such a beautiful thing while covered in the grime and sweat of the road. Sure enough, the other door led to an equally luxurious bathroom, and Belle reached down to the tub (plumbed!) and turned the taps. To her utter amazement, steaming warm water gushed out of the pipes and splattered against the floor of the tub. In spite of his poverty in companionship, Beast clearly had the best and most costly of modern technology. She gleefully stripped out of her travelling clothes and dived into the tub. Perfumed soap promised her a standard of cleanliness she hadn't experienced in a week.

After her bath, she dried off with the most sumptuous towels she'd touched in her life. In a fit of sudden resolve, she decided she would wear the yellow dress after all. It was no easy task, dressing herself, but as far as she could tell there were no human women in the castle who might be able to lend her a helping hand. Once she was confident that she was arrayed as well as she could be, she unlocked the door to her room and made her way back down to the castle's foyer. Hearing a clatter from another room, Belle made her way to the great door and tentatively knocked.

Beast opened it and was arrested by the beautiful creature in front of him.

"You look radiant," he said with a bow.

Belle blushed. "Thank you. I wasn't sure…"

"It's fine." Beast opened the door to a room that proved to be a dining room. "The servants are just finishing up, I hope you aren't… alarmed."

In spite of his monstrous appearance, the Beast was a surprisingly generous host. He did tell her a little of the story about how he'd become cursed, and Belle empathized with stricken prince. It was true that he'd sinned against the laws of hospitality, but the punishment seemed disproportionate to the crime, and she told him so. For the first time in a long time, Beast smiled. After getting through dinner, they each smoked a cigar in the smoking room and talked about nothing. Belle found something about Beast soothing. His deep, masculine voice, broad shoulders, and glittering eyes were strangely comforting to her. She was astonished when she discovered it was eleven o'clock; somehow he'd kept her enthralled by his stories for hours. Finally she took her leave and put herself to bed. She slept without any fear.

The next day, it was with a strangely heavy heart that Belle led Philippe away from the Beast's castle. One of the servants fixed her cart's broken axle, and so it was much easier to lead Philippe along the bridge and onto the muddy trail. She regretting leaving the yellow ballgown behind, but it obviously would have been ruined if she had tried to take it back into town. It took ten hours of slogging through muck before she arrived back in town, and she went to her mentor, Indiana Jones, with her haul first thing when she arrived.

As soon as she got into his office, Belle lit a cigarette. Indiana Jones came in, and then he was followed by Gaston, much to Belle's distress.

"So, what have you got for me, Belle?" Jones asked.

Gaston took a seat beside her across from Indiana, and she tried to pretend her "colleague" didn't exist. She handed Indiana a ceramic pot of the flour.

"A new grain from Africa. The merchant who sold it to me called it 'teff,' and it's the main ingredient of an incredibly tasty and nutritious bread called injera. I bought four bushels of teff, one bushel of the grain itself, and a few injera samples, too." Belle reached into her satchel and pulled out a spongy bread, wrapped in leaves. "Try it."

Indiana pulled open the leaves and took a bite of the injera. Belle watched his face intently, and suddenly the professor broke out into a smile.

"You've certainly outdone yourself this time, Belle. What an extraordinary texture!"

Belle took a long drag of the cigarette, deeply relieved. Indiana was totally uncompromising and was fast to say something was awful if he didn't find it up to his standards. Indiana took a handful of the teff and ran it through his fingers, testing it curiously. He felt a small foreign object in the flour, and pulled out the strange item only to find it was a piece of Ethiopian jewelry. It must have fallen off one of the packers while she was working. He didn't know what the coincidence meant, but he snapped his fingers and put the earring in one of his pockets. Belle was glad Indiana accepted her offering, but there was something else on her mind.

"When can I go back to Cappadocia?" she asked, thinking only of seeing Beast in his castle.

"We're supposed to send a shipment of wheat there on Thursday. Unfortunately, there's a complication." Indiana grunted, pulling out a map and spreading it across his desk.

Jones pointed to a particular region, drawing a circle with his finger. "Travelers on the road over the mountain have reported being harassed by some kind of wild man. They say he has the strength of a bear and the agility of a chimpanzee. Until something is done about him, there's no way I can allow you passage over the mountain. Cappadocia, Carpocrates, Camarilla - all of them are off limits until the problem is resolved."

"I'm not afraid, I'll go!" Belle objected.

Indiana shook his head. "It's too dangerous."

Belle was about to give him a lecture about feminism, but Gaston cut in before she could start.

"I can handle it," Gaston said.

"No, not you either." Indiana rolled up the map. "I will deal with this one."

In spite of the protests of Belle and Gaston alike, Indiana dismissed them. Belle went home and sulked; the only thing that brought her comfort was the memory of all those unread books in Beast's castle. She would get back there, soon.

Indiana Jones started up the road into the mountains. He took no supplies but a satchel of food and water; he knew the local area well, and he could live off the land if finding the wild man proved difficult. He went to the site of the most recent attack and searched the grounds thoroughly. Unfortunately the rain washed away most of the footprints and evidence of the brawl, but Indiana spied a fortuitous strip of cloth hanging off a tree branch. Soon, he found the characteristic broken branches and bent grass nearby that indicated the passage of a human being. He followed the trail for several miles into the ruins of a broken, crumbling watchtower. Indiana found the wild man sitting in one corner and skulking in the shadows.

Jean Luc Picard looked up at him and grunted. Indiana Jones raised his hands carefully, showing them empty of weapons.

"I'll tell you what," Indiana said to the man. "We'll play a game of Moff. If I win, you have to clear out of here and leave the travelers alone. And if you win, though it belongs in a museum, I'll give you this."

Indiana held up the Ethiopian trinket, and Picard reached forward greedily to grab it. Indiana put it securely back in his pocket.

"Nope. First, a contest."

Jean Luc Picard grunted his assent, and Indiana collected a few stones for the complicated game. In spite of the fact he'd forgotten how to speak, Jean Luc Picard was still an able Moff player, and he followed all the local Moff rules without a single foul. Indiana found himself sweating with the mental strain; Picard was no pushover when it came to Moff. After hours of difficult maneuvering, Indiana Jones finally gained victory.

"Now, off with you!" Jones ordered.

Jean Luc Picard hissed at him, but obediently fled from the watchtower into the thick woods.

Back in the village, Belle waited impatiently for Indiana to return and give her permission to enter the mountains and see Beast in his castle once again.

[AUTHOR:] Well, this story is adapted from a dream I had. If the plot doesn't make any sense and the characters have nothing to do with each other, and cities are inexplicably named after things that aren't cities, that's why! I don't know what the game of Moff is either. Still, I thought it was more interesting than _not_ writing it down.


End file.
